Burning that Festive Flame
by Macaronic-Paradox
Summary: Set after Ruth's return: HR face a lonely Christmas but determined to rebuild their relationship, Harry invites Ruth round. Includes a mixture of fluff & angst. COMPLETE :D
1. Invitation

**A little late for the festive session, I know ...This is my first fic set post 8.1 so rather nervous and would really appreciate comments :-)**

**Mistakes all mine**

**2 weeks till Christmas**

There wasn't a touch of tinsel anywhere on the grid. The team had other things to occupy their minds than the festivities of Christmas so It wasn't till Tariq casually mentioned he'd need to leave early next week to see family, that Harry had given that day more than a moment's thought.

"Of course Tariq."

"That goes for me as well, if that's ok." Grumbled Ros.

"Off somewhere nice?" Harry returned.

"My mother's." she replied deadpan.

Harry felt an uncomfortable tension run through his body. It wasn't solely his fault her father would spend the next 2 decades of Christmas' at Her Majesties pleasure, leaving Ros and her mum alone together, and yet, a vein of guilt still coursed through him. He gave a simple nod and was quick to dismiss the meeting.

That morning Harry watched glimpses of Ruth at her desk and a relentless question entered his mind. _'What was__she__doing for Christmas?' Would it be inappropriate to offer to spend it with him?_It was only six months ago in that darkened warehouse she'd watched George's execution and looked him straight in the eye, casting him a 'heartless bastard' with a pureness of revulsion that still crushed and tore him up inside, a pain that was re-enacted with perfect clarity as he reminisced .

Despite what had pasted, they _did_ have history and, in the last few months, through forgiveness, Jo's tragic death, and the general daily trials on the grid they'd grown much closer and perhaps, just perhaps, it'd be what they both needed, if he wasn't too presumptuous in assuming she'd not got plans already.

**1 week till Christmas**

Still, Harry had yet to ask Ruth over. He felt a teenage nervousness every time he contemplated it and always lost his usual assertiveness to some other task at hand.

**3days till Christmas**

Ruth was handing over the Intel to Harry on a terrorist cell they're been monitoring.

"I've crossed matched the data and re-ran the video feeds we received from our asset in Peckham, There's no need for immediate worry, mainly a group of disillusioned students planning some low level pranks. I've passed it on to Scotland Yard, they'll be able to pick things up from here. So fingers crossed, things will be quiet next week."

Harry scoffed. "And there's me losing faith in humanity..." She gave a questioning frown. "...it would seem even terrorists, anarchists and crooked politicians are polite enough close down their escapades for the holiday season, almost touching."

"Yes well, don't go jinking it." she laughed and turned to leave his office.

"Ruth." Harry snapped out of his professional musings. It was either now, or he'd never build up the courage to ask her over.

"Hm?" she turned in the doorway.

Harry stepped up from his chair and strolled casually towards the doorway. "Just wondering if you had plans this Christmas." He delivered the question coolly leaning on the doorframe opposite.

In truth Ruth had done her best to block out that fast approaching appointment. She hadn't really celebrated it in Cypress, George's family had their roots in Islam so Eid was as close as she got to Christmas. Now she was back, she'd not yet had the courage of mind to face her remaining family, to turn their world upside down by 'popping back' from the dead. The greatest problem, or excuse, she'd settled on, was an explanation. She could never tell her family and friends the real truth and dreaded the sheer exhaustion of lying, she still needed time to work out her story. So when Harry asked her plans, she was caught off guard and without the heart to lie, told the truth.

"Not much. A bottle of wine probably, maybe two." She gave a false smile. "I'll be fine, well, not fine- ugh..I'll be ok. Really." She took a deep breath, her cheeks began to glow red and as her hands tightly clutched her papers and her eyes searched to focus on anything but the man in front of her.

He gently grasped her arm, "If it's any comfort, at least you've the excuse of people thinking you dead. I can't say _that_much".

Ruth was put slightly more at ease, "You've not got plans?"

"No. Well actually, I was wondering if perhaps you wanted to come over to mine, for a bit, Christmas lunch or something. Nothing fancy just, well I thought it'd be nice, if you wanted to."

She should have seen it coming from the moment Harry started to enquire to her plans but she hadn't. Looking at him now she could make out the betraying signs of nerves about his composure as he waited for her reply. The result was an overwhelming feeling of warmth, re-stirring deep feelings that she'd once tried so hard to burry.

"I'd like that." Her answer was honest, marked with a simple smile.

"Good," he relaxed, "shall we say 1 o'clock?"

"What shall I bring?"

Harry frowned, "Just bring yourself"

"Harry" she protested.

He relented "Ok, tell you what, bring that wine of yours and we'll call it evens… and no presents."

Ruth laughed, "Harry I can't just-"

"I mean it, I don't want you to buy anything, that's an order." He winked.

Ruth smiled, and begrudgingly she agreed. "alright, no presents"

Leaving his office she recalled how incredibly sweet he truly was, then, she thought how privileged she was to see that side of him. Most, more familiar with his blunt humour and fist banging rage that could scare the hell out of those unaccustomed to his temperament.

Grateful for the gesture and his invitation she'd noted how with each day since her return, the trust had slowly rebuilt between them, and now, a quiet enthusiasm stirred as she allowed herself to look forward to Christmas.

Seating herself at her desk and sorting which files were to be sent to Scotland Yard she couldn't help but glance to his office, he was back to work, idly turning pages, skimming their contents then dashing a signature at their base. He paused, as though he could sense her gaze though the thickened glass, glancing up he caught her eye, the look he gave her was warm and soothing. Ruth softly smiled back and she realised this was the first time since her return that, that 'oh so previously familiar ritual' had repeated itself. She'd missed it... she'd missed _him._

**This chapter sort of seemed necessary to kick things off,**

**Please R&R guys**

...and I'll pop the next chap up tomorrow


	2. Christmas Day, it Begins

**wow thank you for the comments guys! Feeling the pressure to deliver now. I'm still learning but hope you'll like the update and thanks for following my dribbles :)**

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**... Oh forgot to mention, I checked the credits and darn it, looks like I don't own them after all, guess I'll just be borrowing them then.**

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**Christmas Day, it begins...**

"Christ, I'd forgotten how cold it could get!"

Harry chuckled as he opened his front door to a flustered Ruth, an icy wind following her entrance. "and a Merry Christmas to you too."

Ruth paused "Oh God, sorry. Merry Christmas Harry." And passed him two bottles of red wine.

He smiled his thanks and pushed the door closed behind her whilst she endeavoured to explain her flushed state. "It's just been a bit manic with the roads. It was like driving on an ice rink at the hill, had a bit of a close shave."

A frown caught Harry's face "You should have said." He softy chastised, "I would of... erm"

"What?" she asked with a grin, wondering what the knight in shining armour might possibly suggest. "what would of you done?"

He growled back, a flicker of a smile at his lips "something". Knowing too well there wasn't anything that could be done but that didn't stop him feeling twinges of guilt for putting her in even slight danger.

Ruth pulled off her Jacket and slid a loosely woven scarf from round her neck, billowing loose curls of hair fell around her neck and shoulders whilst Harry graciously took and placed the items onto a waiting hook.

Harry himself was dressed differently to his daily ritual of dark suit, white shirt and non offending tie. He looked as casual as she's ever seen him. A long sleeved, salmon pink, open necked shirt, supplied a cheeky glimpse of skin below his collar line. Combined with beige trousers and tanned brown leather shoes, contributed to a warm, welcoming appearance that Ruth instantly decided she liked.

"Come on through Ruth, I'll give you the tour of the new flat they landed me with, it won't take long". He laughed.

**A little later...**

Settled on a kitchen stool, glass of wine already in one hand, Ruth had made light conversation whilst Harry finished cutting the vegetables.

The flat itself was quite modern in design, but to Ruth, someone who relished simple home comforts, it seemed too impersonal. A bachelor pad in its own right, if it wasn't for a lush green tree dressed with lights, bubals, colourful tinsel and the foil decorations painting the ceilings and doorways in each room, it might of been rather intimidating. As it was, she found the contrast rather endearing.

"I like the decorations" Too late she realised it probably sounded more patronizing than genuine.

"Ah, yes. Well _those_were not my idea, but when Heather heard I was spending Christmas here she insisted, said 'it out of the question not to have some sort of festive decorations and if I _was_to be such a scrooge then to at least let _her_ put some up.'"

"You said yes then?"

He grinned. "Actually, I said 'bar-humbug', and let her get on with it. Though as you can see, I think she may have got a little carried away."

"I don't know, I quite like it...So erm, who-who's Heather?" Ruth struggled not to sound uneasy about her question.

A grin re-flickered across his face and paused a beat in cutting the vegetables. _Was that jealousy in Ruth's voice?_ He'd defiantly touched on something. He cocked his head to one side to look at her as she sipped a long slow sip of wine, drawing out the action to distract her from his reply.

He so wanted to simply ask if she was jealous but restraining himself replied. "Heather's a charming women, I think you'd quite like her. She used to be a dancer, was quite good so I'm told, retired now though, she pops over 3 times a week."

"Pops over?" She couldn't help but croak.

Despite enjoying this reaction he decided to cease his teasing, for now. Turning his head he fixed his gaze, "Hmm, Heather's my house keeper..._just_my house keeper, Ruth." He emphasised as he drilled his wistful eyes into hers, savouring the moment as an embarrassed glow came over her.

"Oh right." A relieved smile undoing Ruth's casual reply. "She-er sounds lovely" Sensing Harry could detect the mis-judged jealously she was keen to change the topic. "So... you need a hand with anything? I feel rather redundant just watching you work."

Harry successfully fought the urge to comment she didn't usually have a problem with'watching him work' and replied sensibly, "Erm well, this is pretty much it, everything else went in earlier. Hope you don't mind, I'd forgotten the veg so afraid it'll be boiled rather than roasted."

"Think I'll live."

"Good well, you could set the table?"

"Sure."

Ruth went into the living room, relieved she now had an opportunity to compose herself.

"Second draw from the top." A voice called from the kitchen.

Ruth walked around a small dinner table and opened the second draw of a dark wood cabinet. Inside was a selection of perfectly polished and clearly unused silverware, beside it, a selection of Christmas table settings and accessories. "Got it" she called back, and went about setting the table.

All was going well, she was almost finished when she came to the last item. A thick dark burgundy candle, that smelt of rich festive spices. '_should she set it out? Was it meant for the table?'_ An awkwardness came over her as she contemplated either seeming petty over not putting a candle out or making things more awkward, and by things she meant her, with all the pressure and possible implications of a 'candle lit' dinner. Ruth briefly agonised over the simple decision before making her mind up.

"Looks good" Harry offered softly, she hadn't heard him enter the room.

"Er-thanks" the table was now neatly set with cutlery, glasses, napkins , even crackers, and to one side stood, cradled in a small holly wreath, a burgundy candle. Placed but not lit, Ruth had found a compromise on the situation.

Harry smiled. "Dinners ready, I hope you're hungry"

"I will be if it tastes half as good as it smells." She beamed back

A cracker each and corny jokes aside, Ruth had insisted Harry wear the bright green paper that had landed in front of him. He tried and failed to pout his way out of it but despite feeling ridiculous, he'd no heart to refuse and promising himself he'd find an excuse to remove it at the earliest convenience obliged, and so, hats propped in place, they tucked into the waiting feast.

Harry refilled her emptied glass. "Not so much Harry, I'll need to pace myself, still got to drive home later."

Harry turned the bottled to his own glass "Of course, though It's not like there's not plenty of food to soak it up."

"Well...suppose you're right" Ruth edged a coy smile.

Harry raised an eyebrow before grinning as he was sure he understood her expression and returned to fill her glass properly.

Ruth raised her glass "To good food."

The glass chinked. "And good company," he followed.

Ruth drifted him a smile. Music drifted over from the CD in the corner of the room giving the room a gentle back drop to conversation as a selection of classical Christmas scores provided a welcome change to the incessant Christmas jingles that usually plagued the season, the soft harmonies even adding a subtle, and therefore comfortable, romantic feel to the atmosphere.

They began to chat on a neutral topics, each intent on expanding the conversation beyond the depths of work related emergencies and current affairs, Ruth was more than willing to share her experience and opinion of the sights she'd seen around the world and the ridiculous jobs she'd found her self employed in. All in a story that, to a stranger, depicted an adventure rather than as a person in exile, however, for all the good cheer, her life in Cyprus remained a shaded topic. She mentioned the odd detailed or two but nothing whatsoever in regards to George or the family she'd made there. That subject seemed to flow neatly under the radar, subconsciously omitted from what was to remain a light hearted conversation. This was simply a time to remember how much they enjoyed ,and had missed the other's conversation.

Determined to interrupt and be noticed, Scarlet made her presence known, nuzzling Harry as she begged for a share in the steaming meat, she wouldn't be ignored.

Ruffling the dogs hair, "Al right then girl" Harry's northern roots sinking through his tone, he got up in search of some food for the hungry hound.

His gentle manner to his loyal canine was strangely heart warming and inwardly Ruth cringed at the jealous tricklings now rushing through her for the second time that day. The idea of Scarlet curled up with Harry, his paw like hands gently stroking her, left her only too aware of her own pitiful pinning for a similar position at his side. Eyeing her glass she knew it was mainly her own inhibitions, her own fears and guilt ridden memories that stood in the way of potential happiness. Perhaps letting herself have a couple more drinks would help banish her demons and allow her to fully enjoy the day for what it was, two old friends enjoying the other's company.

A glass of wine later and approaching the 'fill limit' of her stomach Ruth realised they'd hardly made a dent in Harry's banquet. "So how many people exactly did you think were coming today then?"

"Just you and me, why?" he said tucking into a slice of turkey lased in cranberry sauce.

"It's just by the size of that turkey I'd have imagined perhaps 8 or 10." She teased.

Harry slowed his chewing as he considered his reply and, after eventually swallowing, came back with: "Well Ruth you're forgetting I've seen you demolish a sandwich, cereal bar_and_ banana in under 3minutes flat, thought I should be prepared" Harry erupted into heavy laughter at a reaction which was nothing short of mortification.

"Harry! That was _one time,_ a long time ago and I hadn't eaten in over 24hrs! It was hardly my fault my body suddenly realised that without food, I'd end up horizontal."

His laughter gently fading he placed his knife down covered her hand with his "Ruth, I was just joking. Truth is I've not cooked a Christmas dinner before, so it was all a bit of guess work, that's all" Ruth released a smile, touched by the revelation, and by him.

Knowing he was in the clear he slowly drew back his hand to continue with his meal. Both secretly buzzing from the feel of a moments contact.

A few mouthfuls later and both had all but finished their plates and shared a similar look, both had had eyes bigger than their stomach's.

"It's wonderful but I don't think I can't eat another bite."

"Me too" Harry wined, clutching his stomach in one hand and letting out a long sigh. "Don't fancy pudding then?"

"Don't make me laugh, I couldn't handle that right now."

"What laughing or the pudding?"  
"Both! " Ruth smothered her giggle with a wash of wine and realised they were now well through a second bottle, a familiar warmth glowing from her cheeks.

Harry got up and cleared away the plates to the kitchen, Ruth followed his example, clearing away some of the dishes as well.

"Ruth leave those I'll do them later"

"It's no problem, really"

Harry shook his head in defeat, "Alright well thank you" he said taking them off her and placing them to the side.

Scarlet returned, this time wagging her tail frantically and barking enthusiastically. Harry pondered. "I guess she usually goes for her walk about now."

"You guess?" Ruth was surprised.

"Heather." was his simple explanation.

"Ah- good old Heather hey?"

"Lost without her. But... I'm sure Scarlet will cope with one day in."

"No. I mean, well a walk might be good, walk off dinner."

"You mean to prepare for round two, dessert?" he teased.

Ruth laughed, "I not expecting miracles."

"You know, there's a park across the road, we could go there?"

Ruth smiled her agreement.

"Great, I'll go grab our coats then"

Scarlet began to dance in circles, wagging her tail with obvious delight, it was a feeling Ruth could somehow empathise with. She discretely eyed Harry up as he placed on his jacket. She was looking forward to their walk too, but suspected for slightly different reasons than Scarlet.

…._hope your guys can forgive Harry having another woman in his life, albeit for innocent__enough reasons! :-P… sorry couldn't resist._

_next chapter , the fluff shall commence!_

_If you could spare a mo to comment, I'd be so grateful :)_


	3. The Park

**A huge big thank you to each and everyone of you who reviewed so far, I really really mean that! :)**

**...and an extra special mention to Novindalf who kindly beta'ed this chap! :D**

**The story continues...**

The Park

It was cold and the ground hard underfoot. As the brittle grass crunched with each stride their breath froze upon release.

Bending down, Harry released Scarlet, who immediately dashed off to chase an unwitting blackbird and together they ambled along next to snow covered trees.

The chilling wind ate through the gaps of Ruth's coat. Harry, feeling the cold just as much, was quick to notice her pulling her coat tighter, trying in vain to retain some warmth.

"Cold?"

"A little," came a half muffled reply, her scarf partly obstructing her mouth.

He wasn't sure if it was the appropriate thing to do but, ever the gentleman, he offered his arm. "Here."

"Erm thanks." Surprised by his offer but pleased, she accepted, linking her arm through his. Instinctively he pulled her in close to his side. A warmth growing between the two, Ruth buried her head further into her scarf to hide a ridiculously wide smile that had commandeered her face as they walked, arm in arm.

There was something so satisfying about having her at his side. He walked, wondering how she thought of _him_, or more accurately, how she felt for him. He knew he needed her friendship and craved her touch but in nothing more than a glimmer of hope did he dare contemplate her love; the thing he most wanted, but felt he least deserved.

A few moments later, feeling Harry's free hand rummaging through his inside coat, she looked over in time to see him remove a slender silver hip flask. Skilfully, his leather gloved hand flipped the cap and he took a hearty swig. "Keeps the cold out like nothing else." Looking at her, he offered it over.

"Oh I don't know; I've never really been a big spirit drinker..." A harsh gust of wind suddenly tore round them, burning her cheeks. "Though on second thoughts..." Ruth relieved him of the small flask and recoiled at the unaccustomed bitterness flushing over her taste buds. Beyond its initial taste came the relief of intense heat, the amber liquor burning down her throat and settling in her stomach, a fire now igniting within.

Her voice was stripped to a hoarseness of tone as she offered it back, "Here, thanks."

Harry chuckled and had another generous gulp before returning it to his jacket pocket.

The cold air seemed to stifle their will to speak but no awkwardness hung in the air and, happy to wander in contented silence, they strolled along the frosted path.

Having now walked a for a few minutes in the silence and still arm in arm, Harry's jaw tightened and eyes momentarily closed as he dared to reveal his thoughts. "You know I...I've really missed you." He said it as a statement, not looking for a reply.

Instantly her expression crumpled and, biting her lip, their leisurely pace remained unchanged but a tension gripped Ruth's body. It'd caught her off guard; she wanted to reply, to tell him just how much she'd missed him, and how he'd always plagued her thoughts, but all that came was a bottomless silence as she struggled and failed to articulate herself.

Nervously and after a considerable silence, he eventually continued, "Did you... Er, did you ever think of me?" Appalled by his own neediness he quickly bumbled on, "Sorry. God, sorry... Forget that."

It was bizarre seeing Harry so vulnerable; it triggered a reaction in her, one that was no doubt boosted by the rising level of alcohol in her blood. Not knowing what to say she compromised, and placed her second hand on his arm so she was strapped closer to Harry's body as they walked. Squeezing his arm to emphasise the move, Ruth kept looking straight, her head almost resting on his arm. She eventually found a few simple words to reply. "Of course I did."

It caused him to bring their walk to a gentle halt, and he turned his head, slightly twisting his body to look to her. Defiant with nervous uncertainty her body remained held close to his but she turned her head so it twisted as far as it might away from him. "Ruth?" he whispered trying to coax her to look at him.

Her face scrunched tightly as she resisted the delectable tone of his voice. This wasn't the time, or place, for_ this_ conversation. She turned and looked to him_._ "Let's just, keep walking; it's cold. Please."

His face was a mixed wash of caution, he offered a hopeful smile with his reply. "Yes, yes, of course." They resumed walking and he placed his free hand on top of hers, using it to gently clamp her to his arm. The silence of the park surrounding them, a curious excitement began brewing within him.

They wandered the remaining circle of the park, the occasional interruption of Scarlet barking or Harry whistling for Scarlet's attention their only distractions. As they neared the exit she built up the nerve to look up to his face and search his expression. He seemed the picture of peace; a slight contemplative frown turned into a smile as he became aware of her glance, and a suggestion of pride edged his features as he tilted his head down in her direction, a sparkle to his eyes.

Switching her head forwards and re-resting it on his arm, no words were spoken, but he'd instantly put her at ease. He seemed to possess the gift of being able to instantly soothe her fears, granting her a renewed confidence, or equally, convert her into a terrified bundle of nerves, all with the simplest of looks.

As they had all but completed their circle of the park. Relaxed, she noticed the familiar warm scent of his aftershave drifting out the fabric of his coat, the thick fabric lightly brushing her cheek, and she lost herself to her thoughts.

Harry attributed Ruth's tightened (but more than welcome) grip to another icy gust of wind that tore fiercely through them. In reality, still deep in thought, Ruth didn't even notice the weather.

He still loved her, or at least she thought so. But why did that terrify her? And what about poor George...? She was practically a widow, but... but it was _Harry_she thought of each day...

Arriving at the park gate, Scarlet, barking energetically, returned to her master's side. With a final squeeze of his arm, Ruth released him and let him clip the lead back onto Scarlet's collar. Without him by her side her freed arms clutched snugly around her body, attempting to prevent the fresh chill that now gripped her.

They crossed the road, and on their arrival back at the flat realised just how long they'd been; darkness now closed in behind them and despite best efforts, both were thoroughly frozen to the core. Even Scarlet seemed keen to get back inside; the little dog doing her best to drag Harry to the door.

As the key turned in the lock Ruth battled with a decision; how to play things when they got back inside. It had become such a habit to brush off that 'something' that escalates between them, to leave things unspoken and punctuate the moments with awkward silences and inner disappointment.

She didn't want that anymore; she didn't want to feel awkward around him. The balances in her mind between friend and lover had swayed to and fro for longer than she could remember. knowing there was so much more to him, so much she had only yet glimpsed at, she asked herself if tonight she dare take more than just a glimpse at the man she loves.

-.-.-

Ruth returned from the bathroom, her thoughts dancing with the delights of the walk and the closeness it had brought between her and Harry. She entered the living room. It was empty, the table now neatly cleared, dimmed lights outstripped by the light of a roaring gas flamed fire. She'd not noticed the fire before, framed by an elegant mantle. It produced deep orange flames that licked the glowing coals, as close to an open fire as you could get in a central London flat. Not that Scarlet was bothered by this as she stretched herself out in front of it.

Ruth ventured to the kitchen and predictably found Harry loading the dish washer with their used plates. "Can I get you a hot drink or something?" he offered, straightening up. She nodded in assent.

"Yes please; I'm still freezing."

He nodded back and flipped the switch on the kettle "I put the fire on in the other room - to heat things up a bit."

"I like the sound of that," was her now unrestrained, tongue-in-cheek reply.

"Hmm?" He looked around innocently; the sound of the boiling kettle had drowned her words.

She pulled out two mugs from the nearby cupboard, placing them next to the kettle. "Could I have sugar with that?" she pretended to repeat.

"Of course," came his reply, the tell-tale twinkle in her eyes convincing him that wasn't quite what she'd originally said, and his amused grin told her he didn't quite believe her.

Both facing the other, an arm's length separated them. They held each other's gaze, neither advancing nor retreating from the moment, each daring themselves to bring to a head what had remained simmering between them for so long; what both had little willpower to deny but yet not enough courage to start.

Something was needed, a catalyst, to move the moment in one direction or the other. It came with a knock at the front door.

**working on the next chapter as we speak, I'm hoping you'll like it. Till then, would love to know your comment on this chap! :D**

**Thanks guys**


	4. knock knock, who's there?

**Thanks to each of you for your lovely reviews, I love reading every one! ****Plus a thank you to Nia for the Beta :)**

**Sooo sorry for the delay guys!!!.. **

**-**

....Both ignored the first knock, captivated by the other's eye. It was with the second that Ruth gave in to distraction.

"You expecting anyone?" she almost whispered.

"No," his coarse voice crackled back, his eyes clinging onto the quickly deflating moment.

Again there was a knock.

His shoulders sank. "I'd better go check," he offered apologetically, and swore blind that whoever had had the inclination to interrupt this moment would regret it.

Harry left the room and Ruth was left to ponder what had almost been. An overwhelming disappointment filled her and made her realise just how much she'd wanted that moment to escalate, for him to kiss her. Opening her handbag she selected and reapplied her lip stick and with a coy smile wondered what would happen on Harry's return. She wasn't denying wanting more than what had passed so far.

***

When Harry didn't return immediately, a fear of who it might be at the door struck her. It was a fear that went with the territory of being a spy, never quite being able to switch off, always having to second guess. A tension began to build through her and her imagination started playing cruel tricks on her. So, when laughter, a female voice and a second deep male voice filtered through, it was an unexpected but pleasant relief.

Ruth cautiously ventured into the living room. Peering in, a young blond women in her late twenties stood next to a handsome athletic olive-skinned man. Pulling off their jackets they casually laid them over the back of the sofa. She could immediately see a resemblance of Harry echoed in the younger woman's face. _Was this his daughter?_

Ruth ventured through the doorway. "Hi," she offered timidly.

"Ruth, come in." Harry beamed, fresh delight shining through his features.

Ruth walked over; the young couple had a welcoming appeal and glowing expressions that immediately put her at ease. "Ruth, meet Fabian and my daughter, Catherine."He gave the customary hand gestures that went with introductions. "Catherine, Fabian, this is Ruth, my er... friend." He partly stumbled; she was more than that, but with so much still unsaid he'd no better description to offer.

Ruth blushed and Catherine and Fabian shared a look in which both Harry and Ruth were made to feel they'd somehow been caught out by the younger couple.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Ruth," Fabian smoothly opened with, simultaneously shaking her hand whilst wrapping his other strong arm round the back of his girlfriend.

"Just telling dad that we were in London and thought we'd pop in, it being Christmas," Catherine added warmly. "It's nice to meet you though; haven't met many of dad's friends... I was starting to wonder if he had any," she added cheekily.

"Oi," Harry muttered, a good-natured smile on his face.

Ruth chuckled. "It's nice to meet you too. I thought you were living out in the far-east, doing aid work?" Her mind, a sponge of information recalled the events of a while back.

Ruth had unwittingly hit a sore topic. Harry didn't give his daughter the opportunity to reply as an innate protective instinct rose up within him. "Yes, she's under the illusion that risking her life, day in, day out, goading the local militants and upsetting the local balance will somehow-"

"Dad!" protested Catherine sharply. "Those people have no one else to help them_ but_ us!"

Ruth's eyes sparkled as she quickly added in a mutter, "Taking on the evils of the world single-handily, sounds like someone else I know." She gave Harry a very deliberate look, a look that was instantly returned with Harry's own growling expression.

"It's in _no _way the same, Ruth."

Quickly trying to defuse the situation, Fabian cut in. "_Okaaay_ then... It's Christmas; let's just have a drink to celebrate and maybe discuss something else."

Catherine wasn't bothered my her dad's outburst; in fact she was left more than delighted with Ruth having highlighted his hypocrisy.

Ruth on the other hand, simply felt privileged at being made privy to another chapter of Harry's life and found her own comedy in seeing Harry and his daughter both so passionate, so defiant, so stubborn and... so similar.

***

Settling themselves round the sofas, the heat of the fire rendering the hot drinks unnecessary, Ruth found herself once again with a steady stream of alcoholic drinks to hand.

Two hours flew by in a scene that epitomized Christmas; gathered around the sofas was a selection of treats and filled mismatched bowls, whilst the fire blazed on and good humour overflowed between them all. Ruth, feeling completely at ease, shone by adding her unique and stimulating energy to any conversation whilst Fabian shared the funnier stories from his and Catherine's latest adventures. Harry took occasion to poke some good natured fun at each of them, including revealing some of Catherine's earlier childhood misadventures. Catherine, ever ready to rise to the occasion, retaliated with the recollection of a photo she'd once discovered from her dad's student days, the details of which left him rather red faced and conceding defeat. He quit his jostling humour and took a moment to store this memory for another time.

***

Chatting idly with Catherine, Ruth felt she was talking with a close friend rather than someone she'd met just hours earlier. Sharing jokes, which now and then was at the expense of their male counterparts, they all but abandoned the two gentlemen who'd some time ago disappeared from the room.

Neither the girls immediately noticed, but it was Ruth who finally realised, "We seem to have lost Harry and Fabian".

"Oh yeah. They should be ok for now; five more minutes though and I may have to search Fabian out, make sure Dad isn't interrogating him or something."

Ruth laughed. "He's not _that _bad."

Catherine took another swig of wine and between laughs added, "Yeah but Ruth, you would say that... you fancy him."

Jaw agape and her eyes wide with surprise, Ruth wasn't able to compose a response. Catherine laughed, content she'd hit the nail on the head.

Ruth began with denial. "C-Catherine we're not... me and Harry, we work together and we're old friends, I-"

"Save it," interrupted Catherine. "It took Fabian and me thirty seconds to notice the way you look at each other." Ruth began to practically down her wine, her pulse rate thumping as her checks, already glowing an intoxicated dark hue, flushed further as blood raised to the surface. "Well... for what it's worth, you get my vote; I've never seen him so happy."

Ruth put her wine down on the table and sighed heavily. "I do care for him, a lot... but it's never that simple."

There was an extended pause as a thought flickered through Catherine's brain. A seriousness rose to her expression as she chewed her lower lip in apprehension. "Wait a minute. You work with my dad, and so you're a spy too, yeah?"

"Arhh, umm..." It wasn't really a question - Catherine obviously knew the answer - but still Ruth wasn't exactly sure the protocol on this situation; admitting you're a spy wasn't something she made a regular habit of, but this was Harry's daughter, and light headed drunkenness left her unable to back track. "...I think 'spy' conjures up a slightly more glamorous depiction than what I do."

Catherine was edging on impatient. "Sure, but you work together _and _you're old friends. _How_ old exactly?"

Uncertain what she should reveal, Ruth was cautious with her answer. "An age." She forced a brief chuckle but the question '_Why did she care?' _hung in her mind. She was about to find out.

"Did you... did you disappear a few years back? Have to leave, go away or something?"

"What?" Sobriety hit Ruth like a bus. Either Catherine was psychic or Catherine knew something, something she couldn't possibly.

**_Feel bad for the delay and so i'll post another chapter this evening!!! :D ....Till then, [shameless begging]please please pleeeeease forward me your comments :-P  
_**


	5. Chapter 5

"What?" Sobriety hit Ruth like a bus. Either Catherine was psychic or Catherine knew something, something she couldn't possibly.

"Is that a yes?"

Ruth nodded.

Catherine gave a searching look, as though she was weighing up if she should reveal what was on her mind. Taking a breath she made her decision. "A few years ago I was out working in Lebanon. I was injured in a bomb blast, I lost a lot of blood and the doctors didn't have my blood type. God knows how dad found me, but he did. If he hadn't or he'd been a few more hours, I would have died. He gave me a blood transfusion, from his veins to mine, and saved my life."

All Ruth could offer in a return was a strained smile; she couldn't imagine what Catherine had been through but her thoughts also held a burning desire for her to explain the story more, explain how her own disappearance was connected.

Catherine smiled. "Every cloud has its silver lining."

Ruth frowned as she tried to work out the missing link.

"After that, me and dad forged some new bridges, one of those heart-to-heart soppy moments you only ever see in films... I saw a completely different man to the father I'd thought I'd known. We've been a lot closer ever since."

"I'm glad." Ruth smiled and reflected to her own life. "Sometimes it's those terrible things that give us perspective, help us to appreciate those we love."

"It's funny, that's almost exactly what he said out there, in Lebanon. He told me he'd just lost someone, a women... She'd had to leave, he didn't say why, and I knew better than to ask. He said he'd left it too late, too proud to admit to her before, what now, he'd never be able to..." Catherine watched Ruth's face crumple and a sadness fill her eyes. "I'd never seen him like _that_ before, empty, lonely..._heart_broken."

"Stop. Please." Ruth held back the tears as they threatened to spill to her cheeks.

Catherine gave Ruth a moment to compose herself and absorb what she'd just said before adding, "It _was_ you, wasn't it? The woman he was talking about."

Ruth gave a curt nod; words were beyond her.

A twinkle returned to Catherine's eyes, coolly adding, "Good, cos if you weren't, I would have really just balls'd things up, hey?"

Ruth couldn't help but burst into unexpected laughter and she wiped any remnants of tears from her eyes.

"Well," continued Catherine, "I think you're a good influence on my dad, keep him on his toes."

"I don't-"

"No it's a good thing," the younger woman assured with a smile.

Ruth was again stumped for words, her mind swimming with thoughts of Harry, and realised he'd mourned her just as she'd mourned him. She promised herself when they're next alone she would forgo her pride and be open with him. She can trust Harry with her feelings, there's no need for _either_ of them to hurt anymore.

Catherine decided enough had been said, and so softly instigated a change in subject.

"Y'know... it's been a while, and me and Fabian had better make a move soon. Maybe we should go rescue the boys... before they wind each other up and dad has him deported or something."

They laughed freely. Ruth liked Catherine's humour almost as much as she liked the context of Harry being 'one of the boys', and reflected that he'd always held an undertone of boyish mischievousness. Her cheeks aching from the evening's laughter, she found her voice. "Yeah, let's go and rescue 'the boys'."

Harry and Fabian had sought refuge in the small room Harry used as an office. The light glowed beneath the closed door as Ruth and Catherine quietly approached.

Deep muffled voices escaped the small room. "What are they doing in there?" asked Ruth suspiciously.

Catherine couldn't help but whisper back. "I don't know, you're the spy!"

Both burst into wine-induced giggles. Edging closer Ruth turned the door handle and pushed it open.

The sight that met them was Harry and Fabian, slumped either side of an oakwood desk in leather armchairs. Harry clutched a scotch in one hand and, like Fabian, held a fat, half-smoked cigar in the other.

"Erh Harry!" was Ruth's instant but effective reprimand as she eyed the smouldering stump.

The result was immediate. Sighing, Harry leant over and stubbed out the cigar in a heavy flint ashtray. He liked the occasional cigar but liked more Ruth's reaction. She obviously cared for his health and he silently rather enjoyed the confidence in which Ruth displayed telling him off.

Watching Harry's unquestioning obedience Fabian began to laugh.

"Erh-you've nothing to laugh about, put yours out too," demanded Catherine.

Harry merely raised his eyebrows at Fabian who, mirroring Harry's sigh, did what he was told. "Cover's blown then Harry?"

"Quite."

Catherine gave Fabian a half angry look and he tried to feign innocence. "What? He offered, I could hardly refuse. You wanted us two to get along; it's like a male bonding thing."

Although Harry liked Fabian, those two words would,' male bonding', for some unknown reason always held the ability to make him cringe.

"_Daaad_," came Catherine's protest.

He simply shrugged, "The man appreciates good tobacco."

Catherine rolled her eyes.

Harry turned his head to review Ruth's reaction, a half cut frown still marking mild disapproval. "I didn't know you smoked," she voiced.

"I don't... usually. But it being the season of festive treats n' such." Harry gave his most imploring look which, for Ruth, resulted in a stomach flip. Not that she was going to let him know that of course and so settled on a deepened frown in feigned annoyance. Her lips however, betrayed the façade, failing to conceal the twitch of a smile.

Catherine came to the purpose of the intrusion. "Right well I came to grab Fabian; it's late so we ought to really make a move."

Fabian could only agree and Ruth offered to help him gather their coats, leaving Catherine alone with Harry.

-.-.-

Harry's coarse voice croaked through as he rose from the chair and perched himself on the edge of his desk. "Won't you stay a little longer Catherine?"

"I can't, Dad. Things to do, people to see - you know."

Harry interpreted her reply. "You're going to your mother's?"

Catherine felt guilty just admitting it. "Yeah. Actually we were meant to be there a good few hours ago but...well I fancied popping in on my old man first. Didn't realise we'd spend most the evening here."

"It means the world that you came."

Catherine smiled back and with open arms gave her dad a big hug.

Relaxed with the feel of his daughter in his arms and couldn't help admitting, "I love you; you know that right?"

She squeezed him back. "Yeah, you too dad."

They pulled apart. "If you see your brother later... Just- just check he's ok, I do worry sometimes."

"Sure." Catherine nodded "Don't worry though, Graham's got a good head on his shoulders, even you said that much. He's a survivor, like his dad."

Harry edged an uncomfortable smile.

"He'll come round," she continued, "_one_ day."

"I hope so." Harry cleared his throat trying to lighten the mood. "Now, you don't leave it so long next time, yes?"

"Deal; maybe we can meet up again before me and Fabian fly back?"

"I'd like that."

"You could bring Ruth," she teased. Harry grinned and looked away with slight embarrassment.

"Are you blushing!" she exclaimed with obvious delight.

"Course not," he dismissed firmly; a pointless lie as the pigment reddened in his cheeks.

Catherine softened. "Dad, she's lovely... a touch younger than you perhaps, but lovely."

"Catherine..." He gave a warning growl.

She quit her teasing. "Alright, just don't let her get away, _not again_," she added with a whisper.

Her words caught him; he'd forgotten just how much he'd let his heart talk the night after losing Ruth, the night he almost lost his daughter too.

Harry looked over his daughter with pride at the intelligent, kind-hearted women she'd grown into. Squeezing her arm gently, he replied, "No- no I won't."

In the living room, coats in place, they said their goodbyes.

"It was a pleasure." Fabian gave a kiss to Ruth's cheek.

With Harry, Fabian settled on the traditional hand shake but Harry couldn't help adding a reassuring slap on Fabian's shoulder. He had a genuine like for Fabian, who he thought a little eccentric, even idealistic, in his views but an all-round 'good egg' as far as he could see.

Ruth and Catherine shared a hug, both feeling they'd made a genuine friend.

Fabian and Ruth went into the hallway in the search for a missing glove. Before Catherine followed she popped a kiss on her dad's cheek. "Take care... Oh but dad, just so you know," she squeezed him lightly on the arm, as if imparting a close secret, "no-one's going to kiss an ashtray."

Harry visibly cringed; was he _really_ having tips on his love life from his daughter! "Don't you need to get going," he half joked.

Catherine laughed, and walked off into the hallway dragging Fabian**,** who'd found his missing glove, out the door.

Harry clicked the door shut and they were alone...

_-x-_

_I hope you're enjoying it guys ...let me know and stay tuned for an update:-P_


	6. 007: licence to flirt

**Thanks to Nia for the beta!**

**Writing the last few remaining chapters is proving tricky so whilst I work on that, this chapter's a filler. (In all honesty though, it's also an excuse for me to have some light hearted fun with our two heroines. ;-P )**

**Thanks for leaving your reviews guys! :D**

Harry found himself at the bathroom sink splashing cold water over his face, his hands either side**,**supporting him as he stared back at his reflection. School-boy nerves coursing through his veins, he gritted his teeth and took a couple of deep breaths. Squinting, he tried shaking the wine and whiskey fog from his head.

_'Don't bloody blow this Pearce, she's just a woman... albeit a damn sexy, barmy and brilliant woman... Oh and what I'd give to kiss her.'_ The admission caused him to turn to his daughter's poignant advice, and her warning_._ He certainly didn't want the lingering smell, and taste, of cigar smoke to thwart any outside chance of a kiss. Deciding that he'd be better safe than sorry, he picked up his toothbrush.

Padding his way towards the living room, the sound of the TV quietly escaping from its walls, he lingered in the doorway and stole a moment to take in the sight. Warmth from the fire roared from across the room and continued to bathe it in a bright light. Scarlet remained stretched out as she slept silently in front of the flames, meanwhile Ruth was curled up on the sofa, gently clutching a glass of wine and watching a film he didn't quite recognise. A combination of the day's events so far and this homely scene made something within him ache. He was trying to remember when he'd last felt quite so at peace with himself when Ruth, her head not turning from the screen, spoke loud enough to make sure she was heard across the room.

A smile played at her lips. "You going to stand there all night?"

Chuckling quietly he waltzed over and, seating himself a hair breath from her side, he automatically picked up one of the half emptied bottles of wine. Topping up Ruth's glass and adding the last remaining drops to his own, he set down the empty bottle with the rest.

She cocked an eyebrow and cut a flirtatious smile "Trying to get me drunk, Sir Harry?"

He paused a moment, surprised but not intimidated by her tease, and his expression matched hers. "Why? ...You think I should?"

"Well I think...I think I'm half way there," she admitted with a chuckle.

"Then perhaps you should stay here tonight?" he said plainly.

She held back a laugh and gave him an incredulous look. "Oh _Really_?"

"Well you can't drive, and there's no chance of a taxi, so unless you plan to walk the five mile gap, I'd say you're pretty stuck, Miss Evershed," he replied with a cocky smile.

"Oh." He was right and she was left on the back foot. Her plan on driving home had flown out the window hours ago. "You've not got a spare room though," she stated a little apprehensively.

Aiming to quash any reservations she had, he continued, "No... but we'll sort something out, I've survived worse than a night on the couch." He gazed warmly at her and she smiled back; she felt safe in his presence and now, having at least discussed sleeping arrangements, at ease to fully enjoy their evening without the awkwardness of its complete uncertainty.

"So then, what are you watching?" he asked casually, glancing in the direction of the TV.

"Brad Pitt," she teased. The opportunity to flirt with Harry was too much fun to resist.

"Is that so?" He sensed her attempt to make him jealous and he loved it, mostly because it worked. Reshuffling himself in a more comfortable position he made a distinct effort of outstretching an arm behind her, resting it gently on the edge of the sofa, his body sank into the cushions. "Isn't he a little..." He squinted as he struggled to think of an appropriate put-down. "I mean, he'd probably have a hot flush if he ran out of moisturiser."

"What, you think he's not a, 'real man'?"

"Well let's just say I'd be sceptical of any man who chooses to wears makeup... So, no. Not a real man."

Her bravery climbing with every minute that passed between them, she couldn't resist rising to the challenge. "And I suppose you are then?" Her stomach tightened with the thrill of their playful banter.

His eyes twinkled. "If you say so."

She looked him in the eye, and gave the impression of being deep in thought. "Hmm, well I agree you're nothing like Brad, more of a...yeah, more of a Huge Grant type I guess."

Harry rolled out a laugh. "Huge Grant? You've got to be kidding. That floppsy, blithering Englishman? You can't think I'm like him?"

"Well sort of, anyway it's a compliment," she defended. "He's charming, charismatic, chivalrous , romantic... erm-" She continued to search for more of a description.

He interjected, a tenderness to his voice. "And _that's_ how you see me?"

Ruth bit her lip, unable to maintain his gaze, she still managed a reply. "Sometimes."

"You mean when I'm not raising hell on the grid?"

Relieved by his light hearted reaction she managed to look back at him**.**"Well, exactly."

"Hmm...Yet not the most masculine of qualities Ruth." She could swear he was deliberately pouting.

Gifted with renewed confidence she dared to look him up and down as she deliberated his point. "Hmm... Ok well what if I said you've some of the personal qualities of Huge Grant but they were crossed with the brawn of say...Daniel Craig?"

"Daniel Craig? That the chap who plays James Bond?"

She feigned ignorance, badly. "Oh-er, is he? I don't know, yeah I guess."

"You know he is..." Harry gave an infectious ear stretched grin. "...but I suppose I could live with that comparison." He took a sip of wine. "So now, if I'm James Bond..."

She squinted a grin. "Now that's not exactly what I said" she mocked, meeting his glistening eyes with her own.

A playful smirk filled his face. Undeterred, he continued, "If I'm James Bond, that makes you what?... Miss Moneypenny?"

"Miss- Miss Moneypenny?" she scoffed in surprise. "You-er know her and James they..."

"Flirt outrageously with each other?" he suggested, as if proving his point.

She raised her eyebrows fully. "Yeah, yeah I guess they do..." She paused a beat before adding, "So, other than being an awful flirt, do you reckon you- I mean-er James, actually has a genuine thing for her? Miss Moneypenny, that is."

"Oh without a doubt**.**" He searched into her eyes. "But, do you think you, Miss Moneypenny, would ever give him a chance, a chance in something more than mere fantasy?"

Their conversation had become so mixed with reality it was getting hard, even for Ruth to distinguish. An accusing smile at her lips. "Well wait a minute, are you suggesting Moneypenny fantasises about you?"

Without blinking he answered her question with his own. "Well, do you fantasise about me?"

Suddenly finding she'd drifted into 'the deep end' and unable to swim, she rapidly began to sink. "I think that-er, that I er...what?" was all she could manage. Redness flushing her cheeks, the answer was obvious to them both, and she began to drown in embarrassment.

Harry features couldn't conceal delight, but mercifully he threw her a life aid and eased the pressure by turning his focus back to the TV, quietly adding, "For what it's worth Ruth, I know James has a few of his own fantasies when it concerns Miss Moneypenny."

...

**Will get the following chapters up just as soon as I can, in the mean time... Please take a sec and leave a comment :)**


	7. A smile and a gesture

**Beta by Nia :D**

**So this is for all of you who have left a review and given me the motivation to continue … it's worked!**

Harry's words had been left to hang in the air, the TV seamlessly filling the bareness created by the pause in conversation; it allows them both the opportunity to relax into a less flirtatious but an altogether more comfortable atmosphere than the one they'd ever previously shared.

The commercial interval queued the revival of conversation, and he cleared his throat. "You and Catherine seemed to get on well earlier."

Sipping her wine, Ruth replied, "Well she is lovely, Harry… You know, I can see a lot of you in her."

His brow furrowed, reluctant to accept her compliment. "Not sure that's such a good thing."

"Oh don't be daft," and the back of her hand lightly swatted the side of his chest.

He returned a wry smile and pressed his body a little closer. "So then, what did you two talk about when Fabian and I left? You were quite a while."

She looked away in the direction of the TV. "Oh, just stuff; the work she's been doing, travel..." She added nonchalantly, "a bit about you."

"Oh?" Amused interest immediately sparked.

Deliberately delaying any sort of reply Ruth took a long, slow sip of wine.

He countermanded her, utilising his deepest throaty tone. "Ruth?" Half growl, half plea.

Biting down on a smile she looked him in the eye. "Don't worry; it was nice things we said, all of it." Her grin faded to a warmer smile.

The unexpected praise served to intensify his already bashful glow, a smile swept across his face, and delicate creases gathered at the edges of his dark brown eyes. Temporarily lost within the depths of those eyes Ruth was spurred to reveal more than she might under completely sober conditions. Her voice delivered her thoughts in whispered admiration. "It's nice to see you smile, a shame it's so rare a sight... you're ever so handsome when you do."

The observation left him as close as he might ever be to emitting a squeal; this simple and honest compliment even surpassed the joy to he had from brazen flirting. Breathing deeper, his eyes played across her face, his arm still stretched behind her he teetered on the decision of finally crossing the line they always danced so dangerously close to. So easy would it be to pull her into his arms and match his lips to hers.

.

Realising her unguarded honesty had just rapidly escalated the brewing sexual tension between them, a predicament that still thrilled as much as scared her, she made an excuse to dilute the intensity of the moment.

Twisting her body and placing her glass gently on the coffee table, she muttered, smile still in place, "I'd-er forgot... I've got you something. It's in my bag, I'll-erm, just grab it."

"Ruth," he huskily implored.

She rose from the seat. Still wanting to act on moment he couldn't help but catch and cling to her small hand, but the dash of fear that immediately glanced over her face held him back, for now. He settled for a wistful gaze and mock scolding. "We had a deal remember, about presents - It's just _you_ I want for Christmas."

He continued to hold her small hand in his.

Trying desperately not to focus on the empathies in his words, she was quick to add, "A-and the wine." She glimpsed down to the numerous empty bottles littering the table. "And as I've woefully under-calculated, our deal can't really count." Giving a small, almost nervous chuckle she squeezed his hand. "I'll be back in a minute, I promise." With that she disappeared from the room, leaving a contemplative Harry, stranded on the sofa.

A small red wrapped bundle in one hand, Ruth returned and re-collected her glass. Sitting at Harry's side, well within the span of his outstretched arm, she passed him the small gift.

"Here," she encouraged.

He smiled, and reluctantly removing his arm from behind her, used both hands to begin tearing the foil paper. To his utter surprise, the paper merely concealed a rainbow coloured tie. He was stumped. "Erm... well it's er... bright," is his simple and baffled response.

"Well you can never have enough ties," she explained seriously, and utterly composed, "and I thought it'd make a brighter change to the more conservative choice of tie you usually wear to work."

"You want me to wear this to work?" he choked out.

"Of course," she replied levelly, the suggestion of a frown catching her face.

Harry examined the subtleties of her face for any trace of a smile. Nothing. _She__must know I'd never wear this?_

He called her bluff. "Well-er alright, thanks then." Placing it round his neck he started to tie a knot, continuing flatly, "I've got meeting with the DG this Monday so I could even wear it then."

She'd had her best poker-face in place, but, as he continued to fasten the brightly decorated tie her lips began to quiver and failing to hold back a laugh, her façade broke. "Don't you dare," she warned with a mocking laugh, grasping and pulling the tie from round his neck before he wass able to finish fixing it in place, an action that drew his body yet closer to hers.

The horrendous tie now resting in her hands, relief spread through him. Despite being none the wiser as to why she'd bought it for him, he joined her in light laughter and smoothly replaced his arm so it rested on the sofa behind her. "Hmm... well maybe I should just reserve it for special occasions hey?"

She nodded. "Probably best, those exceptionally rare special occasions." Her laughter settled. "Look-erm, let me explain. It's just that I wanted to get you _something_and I had no clue as what that something should be. So I went with a gesture, which is what this is, _not_ a present, but a gesture...and so please, _please_ don't wear it to work." Grinning, he pondered just who would be more embarrassed if he did.

Ruth was still smiling, turning the tie's fabric over in her restless fingers, when he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Thank you," he purred, and receding back mere inches, his breath still catching her face, he threw her a wink and a smile.

His touch and proximity put an abrupt halt to her frivolous jollity; the warm imprint of his lips left on her cheek had sent a shiver down her spine. Now noticing the amber glow of the fire catching his face and chiselling his features, her words fell helplessly out her mouth. "Y-You're welcome." Her thanks was followed by a moment of bravery, and reaching over, her spare hand covered his.

Their eyes united. Simply holding hands was a closeness they'd yet to share, but now they had, neither wanted it to end. Sliding his hand out from beneath hers he replaced it on top, and she allowed his fingers to wrap round hers and his thumb slowly brush over the smooth soft skin that covers the back of her hand.

Sat so incredibly close, a radiating warmth bridged the partial gap, their eyes spoke silent whispers of love. It seemed inevitable that one of them would make the committal move, and close the small remaining gap. But, their relationship, (probably best measured in geological time), couldn't break from convention just yet.

Allowing himself a final moment to leisurely bath in her crystal blue eyes it was he who, lifting her hand, pressed his feather light lips to her knuckles, and giving a final squeeze, relinquished her hand…

.

**Please R&R :)**

**Thanks to those still reading, more soon!**


	8. Chapter 8

Frustration, rejection or even relief? Ruth was unsure exactly what she felt as Harry appeared to abandon her hand.

Leaning away down to a shelf underneath the coffee table, he drew out a small slender light blue package, neatly tied and bowed with a silver ribbon. "For you," he offered.

It took a moment for her to organise her thoughts. When she did, it was in the form of mock protest. "N-now then wait, it was you who said no presents."

He smiled. "Please Ruth, just take it."  
She frowned with uncertainty. Setting her glass down, she accepted the small gift. Turning it over in her hands she looked for some elaboration from Harry but he only continued to smile blankly.

She flipped the gift tag to check that it _was_ actually from him, pausing to read the neatly scrolled script:

_To Ruth,_

_'...because some things are to be had as gifts'_

_Christmas Wishes,_

_Yours, Harry._

The message was cryptic enough, but an oddity in the writing struck her more. The ink was irregular, lightly faded in parts, and on second inspection the wrapping paper too revealed some light wear, scuffs visible at the edges, and in the corners a suggestion of dust covered the paper.

A heartbroken look fell over her face. "Harry?... When?... How old is this?"

Silence, he merely returned a bashful smile. Ruth took a deeper breath and tried again. "I-I don't understand..."

Replacing his arm back over the sofa, behind her, he again offered no reply, but waited patiently. Sensing his wishes she carefully set about opening her gift, pulling free the ribbon before tearing the paper along its worn edges.

Beneath the paper, a slender, rich velvet blue box was revealed, a gold crest set on top. Cautious fingers continued to lift the hinged lid and reveal its contents. Inside, on a ruffled silk lining, lay a perfectly formed silver locket, delicate lines carving its otherwise unblemished oval surface that swirled and laced round a small coloured stone.

She quietly gasped, memorised by the sight. His fingers were clenched with nerves. As he proceeded with an explanation, she gradually looked up to meet his unguarded gaze. "We were in the meeting room one morning, waiting for Malcolm before we could start. You-er were making small talk with Jo. She was searching for things to add to some sort of birthday wish-list, and you suggested a locket. Something you'd always wanted, but not an item you'd buy yourself. A locket being '_the sort of thing one should be given... as a gift, from someone who erm, who'..._Well, anyway, the thought stayed with me and a couple of weeks later this caught my eye." Clinging to self-composure he continued, "I-erm, I didn't buy it right away; I debated a long time if I should, if you'd just be embarrassed but in the end, well, in the end I wanted you to have it."

"Oh Harry," she sighed brokenly.

He made an attempt to clear his throat then continued, "It was still a few months until Christmas, so I had it wrapped and set aside, but...well then..." His expression and shoulders sank.

"I had to leave." she finished. He replied with a shallow nod. "...And you kept it all this time?"

Caught out by the intense feelings evoked by the recollection, he tried to lighten the mood, despite how his effort his voice still clearly chafed in his throat. "Well, I would have worn it myself Ruth, but I didn't think I could quite pull it off."

She refused to smile, to allow him to joke them out of the moment, and her eyes ploughed further into his.

His eyes needing an escape, he looked into the blazing fire and added in a whisper, "D-don't worry. I mean...I mean it doesn't have to mean anything Ruth. You're a friend and I wanted for you to have something you wanted."

"It does mean something Harry," she insisted. _More than just something... More than just friends._ Her hand rested gently on his arm and his head turned back to face hers. With a smile, her fingers lifted to cradle his cheek. Spell bound, he dared not move as she brushed her thumb over his warm skin and traced down his jaw. Lingering a moment she felt the wave of warm air heating her cheeks as he shuddered out a shaky breath and, matching his earlier move, she lifted her lips to his cheek, melting them to into his skin.

Before she drew back Harry's arm had wrapped around her waist, he held her close and she complied with the move by letting her head settled next to his. The suggestion of stubble brushed her cheek and her arms slid neatly round him too.

The rhythm of his chest, gently rising and falling against hers, was broken with a slight shudder. She pulled back, surprised to see his eyes lost in a hazy mist. He glanced away, embarrassed to be caught exposing waterlogged eyes.

"You ok?" she whispered, her head tilted to his as she willed him to face her.

His eyes, bathed with water, couldn't meet her gaze. Instead he nodded. "I'm-er... f-fine," he tried, his words all too brief as he attempted to force shut the cracking flood gates.

She studied what she could see of his face with curiosity and with hope. The last time she'd seen him so weak, so without a trace of a professional smoke screen, something he hid behind so habitually, was when they'd parted all those years ago. "What's this then?" she softly mocked, her thumb tracing the escape route of a single tear. Silent, her touch made him look up and meet her gaze. His eyes were a steaming cocktail of regret, longing and love, swirled together and shaken harshly with grief. The mixture poured out his eyes and directly into her heart, stealing her ability to speak. Heart breaking, she slid back into his embrace and together, clung more tightly than before.

Sniffing back tears, eventually she whispered to his ear. "Harry?... The locket, will you put it on for me?"

Slowly drawing back his head he looked at her, but it took a moment before his voice returned and he was able to reply. "Ruth. Y-you don't have to. Wear it I mean, j-just becau-"

"I want to," she cut in and placed the chain in his hand, her fingers hooking round his. Her head returned to the side of his and her lips brushed his ear. "Please Harry."

His eyes momentarily flickered shut, dressed with a cautious smile, then he nodded. "Of course."

_**Thanks you for your coments/reviews/c**_**ritics so far, each one is sooo much appreciated****:-)**


	9. Chapter 9

_**So, not feeling 100% confident in this chapter(and hence that partially the reason for the delay in updating) so your feedback would be great! So far your comments have been both, really helpful as an aid in writing this and they also make me so happy, knowing some of you are enjoying the read so far. :D**_

She swivelled her back to him and Harry was left to look down at the locket which was poised in his large hand.

His fingers tingled as he brushed them over her neck and swept her silky hair to the side. His light touch caused her spine to arch and her breath to catch, a reaction he couldn't help but notice and enjoy.

Leaning forwards he lightly pressed the weight of his chest to her shoulders and his arms snaked smoothly around hers. The pendant hung between his hands and whilst he unclipped it, Ruth's eyes fell shut, her senses magnifying the warmth and intimacy of the body that enveloped her.

Shivers ran through her as the icy cold chain dragged up and over her collarbone. His actions deliberately slow, he allowed the edges of his soft fingers to again trail over her skin as his hands came together around her neck. Harry whispered to her ear, "Merry Christmas Ruth."

Dazed, she feebly murmured back. "M-Merry Christmas."

Having drawn out the simple task of connecting the clasp, it clicked in place and his hands fell softly to grip her arms. Muscles weak, her body relaxed into his with a slight dip of her head to one side, a move that left her neck exposed and provided an invitation that, in the moment, he struggled to resist. He'd told himself that any moves between them should be Ruth's moves but he couldn't resist, couldn't pretend any longer.

His head lowered, with breath that burned her senses, his moistened lips grazed along the nape of her neck. The surprise sensation sending a wave electrifying rapture through her body. Her words were gripped in breathless shock. "H-Harry?"

Still he continued, causing the fine chain to roll and dig into her skin as his lips trailed up over her neck to her ear. He crooked his neck and it came to rest against hers as his hand delicately gripped her waist, and he murmured between soft kisses. "Another chance Ruth...to make it better...to make you happy ... to let me try. Ruth?" Punctuating his entreaty was a final kiss, his lips leisurely pulling at the soft skin below her ear. Rolling his fingers down her arms, he edged his body back to allowed a gap to appear between them. He simply prayed she would to face him and take that leap of faith with him.

Lost within his gentle touch, soothing voice and faint cologne, years of muted desire and a need to prolong their growing closeness guided her response. She turned, her body now facing his.

She could see the desire in his dark eyes yet they still held an element of nervous restraint. Her free hand found his flushed cheek and her lips moved to his. The gap closed and her cautious lips merged and rolled softly with his.

Mind dizzy, his fingers delicately massaged the base of her neck whilst the other took hold of her waist. Tugging at his lips she released a contented sigh and her hands dropped to his chest before sliding behind him allowing her fingers to softly rake to his back. Both knew they should part, discuss this leap in their relationship, but with so much already missed, a joint need for touch, for closeness took precedence.

Holding his body to hers, he lay her gently back into the sofa. Harry's weight fixing her, the position stirred a well-buried sensation. His deeper breathing matched her own, and as the hand he held at her waist dropped to her knee and started to slide firmly up along her inner thigh, she bit down on the low moan of pleasure that shivered through her.

It was a feeling that was accompanied by a discerning moment of mental clarity, and she realised they'd not just stepped over the line of friendship; they had started sprinting right passed it. "H-Harry, w-wait," came a regretful sigh.

Mind adrift in years of longing he broke his attention from her décolletage and found her lips. His hand still pressed to her thigh, he moaned her name as he kissed with a slowed yet more intense passion. Her body still yearning for the physical intimacy he promised, his kisses softened her resolve, and she was tempted to lift her fingers up from his chest to caress his face. Reluctantly though, she gave a faint push on his chest. "Please Harry," she implored, and pulled her lips from his whilst turning her head to one side.

Harry, still breathless and caught in the moment, wasn't thinking clearly, with the knowledge that Ruth's nerves had made them falter without either wanting to, he tentatively resumed gentle kisses along her stretched neck line, teasing her skin with his lips.

He wanted to kiss away her fears.

The initial kisses caused her eyes to fall shut, and she could sense his need to comfort, to protect her. She was so tempted to let him, but then her resolution turned stronger; this wasn't something she could rush into. "Harry. Get off me," she murmured decisively, and with more force, shoved hard on his chest.

The message finally got through and his head snapped back, startled. He explored her eyes for a sign to say that he'd somehow misinterpreted her words, but Ruth's eyes are resolute. It was a look that completely crippled his already unsteady breathing. He propped himself up on his arms and lifted his body up off of hers. His fingers ran through his dampened hair as he took a moment to catch his breath and let Ruth scrabble to an upright, seated position. His brain kicked back into gear and his eyes widened with hurt and fear, fear he'd just ruined that second, and maybe the last chance.

"Too fast?" A question he knew the answer to.

"Yeah."

"Right..." he replied awkwardly.

Her gaze fixed to the floor, embarrassment took hold. "It's not because- because I don't-"

"No no, I shouldn't have..." It was the touch of her hand on his that made him pause, and the squeeze of his fingers as she entwined hers with his, that compelled him to meet her gaze.

Recalling her own willing participation, she held a wry smile. "M-maybe... maybe we were both, a little eager." Smile turned to grin.

The fact Ruth that was admitting to wanting him as much as he had clearly wanted her made him breathe a small sigh of relief and release the suggestion of a laugh. "Yes, maybe so."

Lifting her hand, her thumb tenderly smudged the dark lipstick that stained his cheek. His eyes not leaving hers, he caught her hand with his, and he rolled his fingers through hers. "I can do slowly Ruth," came a whispered promise.

With a calm expression she held his eyes a moment before she replied, "Slowly, but _surely._" Sealing the promise, she squeezed his hand and placed a slow kiss on his now swollen red lips.

Lips parted, his forehead settled against hers; he heaved a sigh. "Oh Ruth... Ruth, there is so much to say, to explain. I'm so sorry, I-"

With an aching smile she hushed him. "I know... I know there is Harry, but not tonight...Please let's just enjoy... enjoy this."

"This?" He searched, with hope, for the definition behind her words.

The corners of her mouth yielded a smile. "Er, yeah...this."

Nervous optimism made him stumble over his reply. "So - er...does that mean you and me, we're... you know... now that, tonight, and us...this is us..._together_?" Having nervously stumbled over his words, he held his breath; in fear as well as excitement.

A delicate sense of calm had settled over Ruth. For once the shoe was on the other foot and, feeling in control, she let herself enjoy Harry's garbled question. God, he is adorable when he talks nonsense, she thought. Her smile grew and her hand stroked down his cheek. "Yes- us -together."

His heart flipped and he matched her expression. He searched happily into her dazzling eyes, and looking deeper he saw that tonight, what she needed - what they both needed – was to find solace in each other's love.

As such, his large fingers delicately brushed some misplaced hair from her face, tucking it behind one ear he then tentatively edged his arms round her waist. Sensing the welcome move she let her body sink to his. His arms enveloped her small frame and with her head resting next to his, he pressed a soft kiss through her chocolate silk hair allowing his hand to make rhythmic small strokes up and down her back and together they sunk into the support of the sofa.

"Harry?" Ruth finally whispered to his chest.

He stiffened; still in uncharted territory, he was unsure of what she would say. "Yes?" he replied, his voice still soft and croaky.

Her meek murmur sounded through him. "I didn't thank you for the locket... it's beautiful."

With a sigh of relief he replied, "Yeah, no, I mean, you don't have to thank me."

Her voice sounded clearer and more confident. "I do... but y-you know...I don't half feel stupid right now, about that bloody tie."

There was a pause then a tremor of laughter lifted his chest and Ruth's hidden smile expanded. "That's alright," he reassured her, his hand stroking her arm. "If anyone can pull that tie off, it's 007, right?"

Arms snaking further round his back, a chuckle filled her lungs and she resettled herself on his chest. Nestled comfortably in his hold she lightly mocked, "I think you're confused between James Bond and Mission Impossible there."

Harry quietly laughed and now, curled in each other's arms, both drained of strength, emotional exhaustion took hold, the TV blurred them into a comfortable and content silence.

The sudden increase in noise from the TV as the film reached its dramatic finale caused Ruth to stir. She'd been dozing and on waking her fingers began absentmindedly trailing over the buttons on his chest, an action that made Harry's eyes crack open. Disorientated but immediately content with the position he was in, he was not averse to their laying half-asleep in each other's arms.

Ultimately the film concluded, and the drone of random adverts blared out as the final prompt for them to detach themselves from the warmth of each other's embrace and head for bed.

Rising to his feet, he showed Ruth to her room for the night.

.

_Almost at the end-one chapter to go!_

_**Comments will be sooo much appreciated :-)**_


	10. Reality

_Thanks to Nia for the Beta!_

_._

_The last chapter- Hope you approve!_

"Could I borrow something to sleep in?" she asked with slight embarrassment.  
"Ah, yes, of course." He turned to a set of dark wooded doors and, opening his wardrobe, he revealed a selection of neatly-hung, starched shirts. "Ermm..." he mused, desperately trying to think where else he might have something more suitable for her to sleep in.

"A shirt's fine. I mean, if that's ok with you?"

His stomach flipped in surprise. "Of course; you take your pick." Turning to face her, his face aglow, he purred sweetly, "Goodnight then."

"Night Harry." The colour rose to her cheeks.

Wetting his lips he stepped closer, and tilting and lowering his head to hers, he placed a cautious kiss on her lips. The irrational fear of rejection thumping through his heart was discarded and replaced with relief as her lips returned his touch.

Pulling away he viewed her coy smile. "Sweet dreams," he winked and, letting his hand slide down her arm, he collected up some night clothes of his own and, leaving her alone to change, he left the room.

Watching him leave, the taste of his lips still on hers, she turned to inspect the contents of Harry's wardrobe. With a secret joy she selected one she'd seen him wear a few times before, unable to hold back her delight in the prospect of wearing something of his. Something that still carried his wonderful scent.

Her clothes neatly laid over a chair, she had only half buttoned the shirt when she caught a glimpse of herself in the full length mirror that donned the wall. Her back lace underwear was partially visible through the thick white cotton, and her dark locks tousled over her shoulders. For a woman who was more than humble in issuing self praise, even she had to admit that right now, she did look and feel rather sexy. It was however a silver sparkle glistening round her neck that made her step closer and study her reflection. Running the warm metal through her fingers she gazed at it in close study. It wasn't bold in its beauty - in fact, from a distance, it looked almost plain - and only with closer inspection could you actually appreciate the delicacy of workmanship, and the skill in its craftsmanship. It echoed her character so well, and she pondered as to what she might one day place inside the locket. Quick to not let her imagination run away with her, she turned her head to her shoulder, inhaling the crisp smell of him that lined the cotton, and made her way over to the empty bed. Pulling back the heavy covers, she slid her silky bare legs beneath the duvet, and with a discontented sigh, let her head fall into the pillows.

She was in Harry's bed, in Harry's shirt, and Harry - mere meters away in the other room - meant she was no longer sleepy. Far from it; instead she was now in some sort of hellish torment where she simply ached to be back in his arms.

As she flicked the switch off on the bedroom lamp, the room was plunged into darkness. The flat seemed quiet, and no slither of light seeped through from under the doorway; Harry must have switched the lights out for himself too. Her mind eventually drifted through the last six months, and her thoughts turned to the time before she left, about her time in Cyprus and of course the turn of events this evening. A surprise feeling of relief spread through her; she reckoned she'd learnt more about want she wanted with Harry in one night than she had in six years. Having crossed that invisible line that splits friends from lovers - and holding no regrets, just modest excitement - she resigned herself to the fact that she would now have to wait until tomorrow to speak with him again, and that tonight, sooner or later, she would have to sleep.

Gentle tapping woke her from a slumber, and a quite squeak sounded as the bedroom door creaked open. Propping herself up onto her elbows, the lights still off, she could just make out Harry's figure by the moon light that shined through the windows.

"Sorry, I left my phone in here," he whispered. "Is it alright if I get it?"

Her heart immediately beat faster in his presence. "Of course." The darkness masked her inquisitive frown as she briefly wondered why he'd have any need for his phone in the middle of the night.

Pacing over to the cabinet on the far side of the room, his silhouette suggested he was wearing a T-shirt and what seemed to be just boxer shorts, and Ruth was left unable to resist filling in the missing detail with her imagination.

"Thanks," he whispered back to her and, phone in tow, went to return along the route he'd entered.

"H-Harry?" she called.

"Yes?"

"C-come over here a second."

There was a pause, and she pictured the expression on his face. His figure moved smoothly towards the bed, halting just at its edge. "Are you ok?" he whispered.

She began to babble. "Yes I am, I just... tonight and _this_, between us, I'm glad ...you-er, you know? ... And-erm... I still think that slow is good, I think it's important-"  
Harry sat himself on the edge of the bed. Giving her his full attention, he squeezed her hand. "I know, I think so too." The moon light catching the side of his face, she could see the sincerity in his expression.

"G-good."

"Good," he softly repeated and, getting his bearings, he felt for her cheek before leaning in and kissing her sweetly on the lips, murmuring his satisfaction as they parted.

His weight began to rise off the bed. As it did, and as she realised she'd once again be left without him this evening, she lost all control over what she would allow herself to say, and couldn't help but blurt, "I feel bad though, m-making you sleep on the couch..."

Still on the edge of the bed, Harry paused. _What would you suggest,_was what he wanted to ask, but an inner caution ensured his silence.

She was thankful it was dark and he couldn't see the colour of her burning cheeks. "You could stay, here, w-with me, tonight?"

His voice was low and rasped in his throat. "I'd-er like that, if you're sure?"

She smile. "I'm sure," she said, and shuffling over, she gave Harry space to climb in.

Harry lay to her side, but she could sense the silent tension; he lay rigid, uncertain in their newly expanded relationship of what boundaries he could and couldn't cross.

Harry was perched precariously on the far edge of the bed. Still with a smile, she rolled her eyes. "Harry, what are you doing?"

"I-er, don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

She started to chuckle. "I don't, but _you_certainly look it."

"Yes... Well ok, I am a bit," he admitted, and in a flashback to his early teens, he remembered having felt the same feeling of nervous stupidity.

Ruth reached across to his far wrist. Gripping lightly, she surprised him by pulling gently, rolling him over to face her and, finishing the move, she tucked his hand neatly around her waist. Immediately she felt his body relax and sink into hers, but she missed the smile on his face as her head nuzzled to his chest.

He resettled himself, more than willing to be her pillow for the night, and held her at his chest. His fingers were free to lazily trail up and down over the cotton that covered her back and, comforted by her occasional pawing at his chest, his body found a sense of heavenly rest.

Neither yet asleep, he heard her mummer, "Harry?"

"Hmm?"

Voice still muffled by his chest, her tone was light. "Y-know, you could have thought of a better excuse."

"Pardon?" he replied in genuine bewilderment.

"Your phone," she replied dryly.

He smiled, amusement in his voice. "Ah, right, that. What gave me away?"

"Well, you'd managed _the whole day_ without it."

Silence, he had no defence to give.

"So did you know that I'd ask you to stay... if you came back?" she asked, on the brink of sleep and not really caring how forward the question might be.

He smirked as she lay cuddled in his arms. He was a man lost to infatuation, and his fingers found the edges of her hair. He brushed some stray locks from her face and rushed them through his fingers. "Actually, I thought I might just get another kiss," he uttered quietly to her ear, his head moving closer. "But as turns out, _this_ is much better."

In reply, she squeezed herself closer to him and lifting her head, managed to greet his waiting lips with a kiss before sinking back to his chest. The steady rise and fall of his chest plus a heady mix of aftershave and cigar smoke that still clung to his skin began to lull her to sleep. A deep satisfaction filled him as they both happily fell quiet and as he stretched himself out, his legs brushing up against her silk smooth skin, he hoped morning might never come. Placing a final kiss in her hair, his eyes fell shut and together they surrendered to sleep.

_As his brain powered down, one final blissful thought echoed quietly through his mind. The specific words may still lay unsaid but 'it' was now more wonderful that had ever dreamed._

_'It' was finally a reality._

_**-End-**_

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THanks guys!


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